The Universe Owes Me One
by xPaige Turnerx
Summary: "Tell me, Bella, do you believe in reincarnation? The concept of soulmates? I didn't. I believed the universe to be a cold, callous machine that churned out random cruelty, apathetic to the lives it ruined, the lives it took. I believed this for a very long time, and while I never made my peace with it, I came to understand it. As it was, as a fact... and then I met you."


**I know you've suffered**

 **But I don't want you to hide**

 **It's cold and loveless**

 **I won't let you be denied**

 _She isn't the worst person._

 _It's all she can think, laying here in the street, feeling the life draining out of her just as quick as the rain washes away her blood._

 _She isn't the best person, she knows that, she's aware that she could have been better, could have done more. Excuses come easily, as easily as "I did what I was taught to do," and if she is to blame, then so are her parents. You don't turn out_ good _and_ pure _with a mother and father like hers; shallow, selfish, two-faced socialites. If they could not somehow use you to get what they wanted, then you didn't exist, so was it really any surprise she became so starved for affection that she gave in to such vanity?_

 _Rosalie Hale's beauty -breathtaking and ethereal- garnered the attention of those who... no. Of all. From working class to old money aristocrats, all the way down to the beggars on the street. Men and their deviant fantasies, women and their aesthetic appreciation, there was no head that could not be turned in Rosalie Lillian Hale's wake._

 _As a result? Not many people could say no to the blonde statuesque, thus she was used to getting her way more often than not. In fact, to reject Rosalie Hale was unheard of..._

 **Soothing**

 **I'll make you feel pure**

 **Trust me**

 **You can be sure**

He sighs, deep and dejected, taking one last look at their video game. The human was still fairly new to the family, Edward had only recently brought her home for that awkward meeting, and one could not say it had gotten any better since then. Unused to actively interacting with humans -and spending most of their time trying to keep their distance _from_ them- the Cullens were uncertain how to act around her.

Everyone except Alice, of course, who already claimed Bella to be her best friend, but Edward was doing his best to buffer between the two. He seemed to have some kind of aversion to the two of them spending lengthy amounts of time together, though neither would explain why.

Granted, Edward often refused to explain or defend his selfish nature, and they'd given up long ago trying to rectify it. The boy was as stubborn as he was selfish, and most of the family felt it easier to give in or ignore rather than deal with.

... Much like Rosalie's temper, that had Emmett resigned to losing the largest television in the house so she could watch her programs. Even if he called dibs to set up a game to play with Bella, attempting to bond with the human. Ah well. There was always next weekend.

Emmett sets his controller down on the coffee table, offering Rosalie a lopsided grin to mask his frustration. "Sure thing, babe," he says jovially and looks around for the remote to switch inputs. He spots it on the arm of the couch Bella is leaning against. "Heya, Boo, wanna toss me the remote?"

"Sure, let's just finish our round first," she says distractedly. Her tongue is peeking out the side of her lips, buttons mashing beneath ink-stained fingertips. "I'll show you some cool concept art for the Resident Evil series after."

Eyebrows inching up his forehead, Emmett turns to Rosalie with a mildly shocked look on his face because _god, does the human not see her?!_ Rosalie's staring hard, expectantly at him, like she expects him to simply scoop up the human and carry her off.

Which, if he's being totally honest, doesn't seem like a half bad idea. Especially if it means sidestepping a confrontation with Rosalie.

But the blonde has better plans, or perhaps less patience, and shoulders her way around the friendly giant. She stops just to the brunette's side, and if she notices that Bella's jean-clad knee rests against her leg, she doesn't mention it. Instead, her hands come up to rest on her hips, and black eyes threaten to burn a hole in the side of Bella's head. "I want to watch television."

"Yeah, we live in a golden age of television, I'd wanna watch it too," Bella replies without missing a beat. Her dark eyes remain on the screen, the drum in her chest ever steady, and Rosalie really hates the reaction she gets from the human.

Or rather, the _lack_ of reaction she gets from her.

Her fingers dig into her hips until she's certain she'll find little cracks later on. "Give me the remote," she snarls and – yup, there goes her patience. She'd promised Esme she would try harder, especially with _this_ human, but in her defence, _this_ human happens to be the _most insufferable_ human.

The game is finally paused, Bella resting the controller on her lap. Her head lolls to the side, face tilting up to look at Rosalie. Too slow, too casual, and Rosalie is already preparing for what she knows is to come. Still, she waits for Bella to adjust her embarrassingly thick and clunky glasses.

(she'd call Bella a hipster for such large, bold frames if not for the fact that anything smaller would look ridiculous trying to hold such thick lenses. Turns out, the human was _blind_ without them. Not only had Edward brought home a human, but a _defective_ one at that.)

Bella's hand raises, covered in ink from both pen and needle (it's like she tried to counter all the dorky with badass and became a dizzying swirl of punk and nerd, and _no_ , Rosalie doesn't like it, she doesn't find it attractive or endearing, she doesn't care. She doesn't.) and fires a finger gun at the blonde with a wink. "Bite me, Hale."

"Don't tempt me, mortal," Rosalie spits out. She waits long enough to study those eyes staring up at her, amused and alight with excitement, no offence lingering anywhere within, no frustration, no rejection, nothing she always finds in Emmett's gaze. Just playful mischief waiting for her.

She turns on her heel and storms back out of the living room, slamming her door when she hears the game start up again.

 **I want to reconcile the violence in your heart**

 **I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask**

 **I want to exorcise the demons from your past**

 **I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart**

 _She knows it's wrong._

 _Behaving like her parents, she knew from a young age that it wasn't how people should be. Wasn't how she was, not deep down. Her parents disgust her. How they could have such warped values of life, how they could ever put anything before family?_

 _After all, she is often on the receiving end of such treatment. She knows how terrible it feels, to be used, to be neglected, to be abused like this._

 _She didn't_ want _to end up like this, she really didn't. As a child, she often promised herself that she wouldn't. That she would grow up to be the opposite of her parents, that people would_ love _her for her, not because of what they could get from her. She would have a large family and love each member with all her heart, protect them with all she was, and never let_ anyone _hurt them. Not like she's been hurt._

 _And for a brief moment, she got this. She was set on the path towards her dream; Royce finally took an active interest in her and began the courting ritual. She was the envy of the town for a new reason and, for once, she simply did not care._

 _What did it matter what others thought of her when she would soon have little children running around, loving her with all of their heart and souls for_ her _. The unconditional love a child has for their mother and vice versa._

 _Everything else... it just faded to the background._

 _Warning signs included._

 _Yes, okay, Royce wasn't the greatest man. He was as shallow as her parents, narrow-minded, and bigoted. But he could also be generous. He was often the first one to dip into his pocket for others; extravagant parties, expensive gifts, lavish housing._

 _The greatest gift he was going to give her, however, was the chance at starting a family, and for that she overlooked much._

Perhaps this is karma then, _she thinks, gazing up at the starlit night sky. Overlooking his discrepancies, turning a blind eye to his cruelty towards others, facilitating his misdeeds._

 _The rage in her heart chews through the guilt and self-doubt until her broken body_ _ **burns**_ _with an undying hunger for vengeance. Nobody deserves what happened here tonight, she knows that. She wants to scream it into the night but she's already screaming, she's been screaming since it began and she may never, ever stop. How could anyone distinguish the fury from the pain, from the sorrow and despair, from the horror reflected in violet eyes?_

 _Everything gone in an instant. Her dreams of a family, her innocence, her life. All taken from her._ _ **Taken**_ _from her, not simply lost. Too much had been taken from her, her childhood, her chance at a decent life of love, her future, and she is sick of it. Sick to death, or deathly sick, or simply just dying._

 _Dying._

 _A cruel end to a bitter life – and he wants her to beg for more of it? For a moment longer of this burning agony, while they stand above her, laughing and drinking, like it's some kind of game? No. Rosalie Hale begs for nothing of no one._

 _Royce may have taken everything from her, but not this. Not her pride._

 _Not even as she lays broken and bleeding in the street._

 _Her mouth won't stop screaming, but she hopes he can see her eyes, see the loathing hate in them. Hopes it haunts him for the rest of his days, and that they are short and full of misery because he deserves nothing less._

 _In fact, he deserves much worse. But Rosalie can't feel her legs anymore and she doubts that he will suffer by her hand so her last bet is to pray that he suffers by someone else's._

 _The universe owes her that much, at least._

 **You trick your lovers**

 **That you're wicked and divine**

 **You may be a sinner**

 **But your innocence is mine**

Bella sits in the hospital bed, broken and battered but alive, and she can't really believe it. Can't really wrap her head around it – well, she can, because she knows how vampires work. How fast and strong they are. That part she can believe, because she had been sat down and explained to meticulously by both Esme and Carlisle.

She understands that the Cullens were on the opposite side of the parking lot, clumped around the volvo like every other morning. She understands that she had wandered off to go say hi to her human friends before class. She understands that the slick, wet pavement of the parking lot was icy from the drop in temperature and that Tyler couldn't help that his breaks locked up.

She even understands _how_ Rosalie was staring at her with wide, black eyes from across the parking lot one moment, and was shoving her back into the side of Angela's car the next. She understands the blonde crouched down, holding out her hands, and stopped Tyler's van from crushing them both. She understands that the vampire stared down at her for eternal seconds after that, her face a mixture of genuine fear and surprise and rage. And, of course, she understands why Rosalie snarled at her that she was a dumb, clumsy human who needed to keep her mouth shut about everything until one of the others talked to her, all before sliding over the hood of Angela's car and jogging off.

What she doesn't understand, what she can't understand, is... _why?_

And so she sits, legs crossed, in the middle of the uncomfortable hospital bed. Her arm in a cast, in a sling, from being shoved just a tad too hard. She doesn't think much of it because a sprained arm is quite the generous trade-off from being crushed between two vehicles, and she will forever be grateful.

When the door to her room cracks open, Bella eagerly looks up. She expects Alice, a little ball of worried energy buzzing around with flowers and kisses and hugs. If not Alice, she expects Carlisle again, telling her she has a clean bill of health, and that Charlie is there to pick her up. And if not either of those two, she expects Edward and his overbearing, intense personality trying to suffocate her with patronizing over-protectiveness.

What she really, truly doesn't expect is Rosalie slipping into the room and closing the door behind her. Black eyes pinning her to the bed, ablaze with fury, a scowl twisting her beautiful face into something frightful if it were anyone but Rosalie. Or reversely, if Rosalie used it on anyone but Bella.

The vampire storms across the room, an accusing finger pointed at Bella so violently that the human flinches back out of sheer instinct. "You dense, moronic, _oblivious_ little girl!" Rosalie snarls. Actually, legitimately snarls – the sound is rough and animalistic, like a giant jungle cat, and Bella is equally excited as she is wary.

Two things she often finds herself bouncing between when dealing with Rosalie in any manner.

"Yes, I'm fine, thanks for asking," Bella says breathlessly. Her snark betrays her, absent in the face of her furious angel. "It's only sprained, not broken."

Rosalie gets visibly more upset, her fists trembling at her sides. "You're lucky to be alive. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even be here! What's a few bumps and bruises in exchange for your life?"

"I think it's the quality of life that matters, and I just," Bella huffed, her glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose as she gazes at her arm, "I won't be able to draw for _weeks_ , at least."

"Thus the world suffers the absence of your pathetic doodles."

The brunette squints up at Rosalie, tapping her chin with her good hand. "You know, you're awfully sour after saving a life. Where's the heroic high?"

"I did not save your life," Rosalie growls, deep in her chest. She shuffles back a few steps, eyes darting to the window, the machines in the room, the bed beside Bella, everywhere but the girl herself.

Bella frowns softly, her dark eyes concerned. She's not used to seeing the vampire like this – wary, like a caged animal, on the brink of panic. "Listen, you might be able to live through being crushed by a van, but some of us end up pancakes on the pavement."

"I would not let that happen!" Rosalie snaps. Her arms cross over her chest, breathing erratic, energy unsettled. "All that blood would trigger Jasper, he would lose control, and do something he couldn't forgive himself of. I would never let that happen, would never allow him to be put in such a situation." Black met brown, both unyielding. "This isn't about you."

"Clearly," Bella scoffs with a shake of her head. A headache has been forming for a while, a dull throb that just bloomed into a full ache. "I don't know what this is about, but I know it's not Jasper. I don't even know if it's me, but I can _see_ it. We can all see it."

Rosalie glares at the human, still as a statue and just as silent.

A deep sigh and Bella throws herself back into the giant, soft pillow Carlisle managed to snag for her. She eyeballs Rosalie for a moment, trying to decide on something, and finally closes her eyes. Exhaustion desperately tries to overtake her. "I got the whole _protect my family from the dangerous human_ bit in the beginning, but it's been almost six months. Obviously I'm not telling your secret, obviously I'm not a threat, so I don't know what problem you have with me." She smirks, fingers tapping a beat on her other arm. "But I see it. We all see it."

"You don't know anything."

The hospital room door slams behind her and Bella wonders if Rosalie Hale has ever closed a door like a regular person.

 **I want to reconcile the violence in your heart**

 **I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask**

 **I want to exorcise the demons from your past**

 **I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart**

 _Royce laughs, large and hollow in his chest, with a sick smile on his face. His ugly face -red, sweaty, and mocking- is the last thing she'll ever see and it's wrong, it's so **wrong** that it kills the last little bit of fight in her. Everything she has been through that night, and it ends like this? With that? It's not fair, and she knows life isn't fair, she knows people have struggled worse than she, but this isn't right. She can't accept it. She won't, she won't, because she doesn't deserve this._

 _She doesn't._

 _She isn't that bad of a person._

 _Is she?_

" _Jus' wait," he slurs and turns to his buddies. One hand swings through the air, the other on his belt. "Jus' wait and see this, lads, I think... hic!... I think she'll like this." He turns back to her, searching the ground around her, and his face twists up in annoyance. "Where's m' fuckin' beer?"_

 _The second the words leave his lips, a bottle smashes against the side of his face. Shatters on the corner of his brow, cutting around his eye deeply. He lets out a surprised wail of pain, stumbling back and tripping over his own feet in his drunken state._

 _John surges forward, goes for this new girl who dares raise her hand against them. Another bottle hits him square in the face; heavy and solid glass, his nose crunches under the pressure and explodes with blood. "Fuckin' hell!" he wheezed and stumbles back._

 _A third bottle is smashed, sharp and jagged edges held up and aimed towards the men. The girl swipes it through the air and they all shuffle back. "Stay and be gutted like the vile filth you are," she warns them in a deadly calm voice._

 _Looking at Royce, who is trying to pick glass out around his eye, and John - whose nose won't stop gushing, they decide it isn't worth risking injury. And even less worth trying to explain how they obtained such injuries. The men scamper off quickly, dragging an infuriated Royce with them._

 _Rosalie blinks up at her saviour – too little, too late, but her heart swells with gratitude that it's over. That she, at least, ended it. The girl drops to her knees beside Rosalie, her hood falling down, dark waves of hair cascading around her. Equally dark eyes scan Rosalie's broken body, tears streaking down her cheeks, hands flittering over the exposed skin. "I'm so sorry," the girl sobs. She shrugs out of her long coat quickly, covering as much of Rosalie as she can._

 _Ending her torment and returning her decency._

 _Who is this angel of mercy?_

" _I'm so sorry," the girl whispers again and Rosalie is surprised to see her bloody hand clasped between two pale ones. She can't feel it and that's a little worrisome. "I ran as fast as I could, as soon as I heard the screaming. I'm so sorry."_

 _Rosalie licks her lips, tilts her head towards the stranger, and even that hurts. Aches, deep in her bones, and produces a fresh wave of tears from this girl. "You made him bleed," she rasps out quietly._

" _He deserves worse," the stranger declares darkly._

 _A little smile tugs at the corner of Rosalie's lipstick smeared mouth. "He'll get worse," she promises._

" _How do you know?" the girl laughs and the sound is watery but no less lovely._

 _Rosalie can see through the tactic easily, knows this girl is trying to distract her from her own inevitable death. Dying feels... weird. Cold, numb, and somehow soft. But she recognizes it. Knows it's upon her, and no amount of distractions will change that. Still... she humours this stranger anyway. It's the least her saviour deserves._

" _The universe owes me one."_

 **Please me**

 **Show me how it's done**

 **Tease me**

 **You are the one**

The first time they kiss is intense and overwhelming and confusing – so basically, it perfectly sums up their entire relationship thus far.

Bella hears the bathroom door open and sighs, prepares her speech about personal space and how Edward is _very_ uncomfortable with Alice always just barging in and joining Bella in the shower. "I know it's none of his business, but the boy is still learning how to be respectful and this is gonna trigger a full-blown fit, Alice. And frankly, I don't like how okay Jasper is with us showering together, I don't wanna think about _why_ he's so okay with it, so can we just take turns showering this time and not-"

She catches the flash of blonde through the glass door of the shower a second before it opens (and part of her is about to fucking _dropkick_ Jasper right out of this bathroom, no wonder he's so okay with it, the pervert) and then Rosalie is there.

Rosalie is there and Bella is _very_ naked, and sure, this may have been an _exact_ replica of one of her favourite dreams, but in reality, it's so much more terrifying.

Especially because Rosalie is still _glaring_ at her. So angry, always so angry. Why is she so angry?

"Why are you so angry?"

Rosalie's golden eyebrows, that were already narrowed in a glare, lower even more. Those black eyes study Bella's, long and hard, as she shoves into the shower, too. Her clothes are drenched as soon as she steps under the spray of water, Bella backing up into the tiled wall. Rosalie braces her weight on her hands, on either side of Bella's head.

She still hasn't blinked and Bella's not sure if she's breathing, and this is everything she's ever hoped for.

But also everything she's always feared.

Or feared since meeting one Rosalie Hale.

Lips press together in a firm line and Bella can't be held accountable for how long her gaze lingers on them because fuck Rosalie for bringing attention to them in the first place, especially in a situation like this. She's about the tell the blonde just this, when Rosalie opens her mouth to speak.

"Because Royce killed me."

Well, it's not what she's expecting so Bella fumbles. Her head tilts to the side and she wishes she had her glasses so she could actually _see_ Rosalie's eyes, so she could read them (lips were so much easier, lips she could do). "I'm so sorry," she finds herself whispering instead.

Rosalie's eyes slide closed, and her rigid stance relaxes. It's as if the weight of the world has been lifted from her shoulders, and when she opens her eyes, Bella sees a much softer person.

She thinks maybe she slipped and fell in the shower and this is some weird coma dream.

"Everything was taken from me," Rosalie says gently, her eyes tracing Bella's face with a reverent tenderness Bella has never seen before. Her heart hammers in her chest, and Rosalie lowers one of her hands to press her fingertips to the warm skin, feeling the beat beneath. "And then she came and gave me everything back." Rosalie's eyes bore into Bella's.

"Wh-what-!"

The vampire rests her forehead against Bella's, brushing her nose against a warmer one, leaning into the naked body before her. The rough contrast of her clothes against Bella's skin is all kinds of delightful, but it isn't enough, isn't what she wants.

Bolder than either was expecting, Bella runs her hands up underneath Rosalie's soggy shirt, splays her warm fingers across a smooth, stone back.

Coma dream or not, Bella's no fool and she will take everything the blonde is willing to give her because she has been wanting this, _craving_ Rosalie, for so, so long now.

It's worth the possible cruel joke Rosalie is playing, or the risk of having her throat ripped out when she somehow manages to offend the blonde-

-because _that's_ happening. She doesn't know when, she doesn't know how, but she knows it's happening eventually.

Rosalie smiles, _smiles_ , and Bella can _feel_ it. "I was dying, cold and alone and empty. She refused to let that happen." Rosalie feels Bella's shaky breath fill her lungs. "She took my hand, she kissed my lips, and gave me all of her love to take with me."

Hands inch higher up Rosalie's back, a purr vibrating through the small, enclosed space of the shower. Rosalie drags her bottom lip over Bella's, listens to both her heart and breath hitch in her chest.

"What a bitch."

And then with all the grace she has, Rosalie Hale snorts. Her lips stretch up in a grin because of course Bella calls her Angel of Mercy a bitch, and of course she can't take this moment between them seriously, and of course she said something that should have ruined the mood.

Rosalie kisses her with a century of bottled up passion, a century of longing, a century of waiting, a century of pain and loss and heartache that had finally, _finally_ been rewarded.

The shower tile cracks beneath Rosalie's fingertips when Bella lifts her legs to wrap around the blonde's hips. She rests her forehead against Bella's shoulder while she gathers herself, listens to that powerful drum beat furiously. Runs her tongue against throbbing fangs and beats back her instincts until she can talk.

With a rough, husky voice that elicits a shiver from her human, but at least she is saying words.

"Tell me, Bella, do you believe in reincarnation? The concept of soulmates? I didn't. I believed the universe to be a cold, callous machine that churned out random cruelty, apathetic to the lives it ruined, the lives it took. I believed this for a very long time, and while I never made my peace with it, I came to _understand_ it. As it was, as a fact. An unchangeable fact." She sighs, long and tired, but her eyes hold something different, something new. A light that had never been seen in Rosalie Hale before. "And then I met you."

 **I want to reconcile the violence in your heart**

 **I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask**

 **I want to exorcise the demons from your past**

 **I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart**

" _It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay," the girl declares fiercely._

 _Rosalie wants to pull away, she wants to take her hand back, to turn her head, so this stranger won't see her cry. But her aching body is shaking, trembling, tears pour from her eyes as fast as blood from her wounds, and she can't bring herself to tear her gaze from that brown one._

 _Weak is the last word anyone who knows Rosalie Hale would use to describe her. She'd brought grown men to tears using only her words. She'd raised herself, and then her two little brothers, in the absence of negligent parents. She had forged her way through school, gaining top marks of her class, refusing to skate by on her looks. While she would have married into wealth, it isn't something she need rely on because she had set herself up for success from a very young age._

 _One way or another, Rosalie was going to succeed in life. She was going to take the bull by the horns and achieve perfection because nothing less was enough._

 _And then she took this particular street home, and here she was._

 _Trembling in front of a stranger, weeping for a life stolen from her. "I don't want to die alone," she chokes out because-_

 _-because that's all she wants now. That's all she has left._

 _Her death._

 _And she deserves one thing, just this one thing, if not any of the others, then just this one._

" _Please," she begs._

 _The girl shakes her head and the tears fall from her cheeks, land on her coat that is doing nothing to trap in Rosalie's depleting heat. She leans down to press her lips against a clammy forehead, tucking Rosalie's golden hair behind her ear. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."_

 _Rosalie's teeth chatter and – she's cold, she's so cold. The night has sucked out all the warmth from her broken bones, but the girl is like a little hopeful flame in the chill. Rosalie wants to huddle closer, but her fingers won't even twitch anymore. "I – I don't – why would – why-"_

" _Shhh," the girl hums against Rosalie's skin, pulling back enough to smile sadly down at her. She cups her cheeks, wiping the tears from violet eyes._ "If you must leave," _she sings softly._ "Leave as though fire burns under your feet."(1)

 _Her breath comes harder, each time she breathes in it wheezes out just as quick._

"If you must speak," _the stranger runs her fingers down the side of her face, a gentle caress,_ "Speak every word as though it were unique."(1)

 _Rosalie struggles to pull in a breath, her stiff fingers grasping the girl's shirt._

"If you must die, sweetheart, die knowing your life was my life's best part."(1)

 _Footsteps echo down the street, heavy and fast. Faster than should be possible. "This way, Carlisle! There!"_

" _Make sure the men are gone, Edward."_

 _A new presence is at her side, she can see a flash of blonde out the corner of her eye, but she refuses to shift her gaze from her angel. "Miss, can you hear me? How long has she been like this, do you know? Are you hurt as well? Miss?"_

" _I – I don't know, I've been here for twenty minutes. These men, they," the angel shakes her head, her face distraught, her words jumbled together as she fights to speak between sobs. "I screamed for help – she was_ _screaming_ _for so long! Why won't these people help?!"_

" _Her heartbeat is weak, she's... I'm sorry, miss." Carlisle sits back on his heels, his hand on Rosalie's shoulder, offering what little comfort he can. He looks at the girl and shakes his head, closing his eyes against the agonized look he receives. "What is your friend's name?"_

 _Rosalie doesn't like that they are talking about her as if she was already gone, and if she had a voice, she would tell them. Sure, she's dying, but she isn't gone yet, and this useless man is stealing her angel's attention._

 _The girl gazes back down at Rosalie, at the intense fire that has returned to her eyes. "I don't know," she murmurs softly, her lips twitching up in a shadow of a smile._

 _A true shadow falls over them, Edward frowning as he looks down at them curiously. "Why are you so sad then?"_

 _Rosalie's eyes flutter, the black edges in her vision threatening to overtake everything else. Overtake her angel. She tries to squeeze the girl's shirt tighter, bring her closer, one last grab for life, but instead feels her hand fall to her side._

 _So weak._

 _So tired._

 _Maybe it's time to go._

 _Maybe this is for the best._

" _Because I love her."_

 _Violet eyes blink open._

" _But you don't even know her."_

" _I do," the girl insists gently, without ever looking away from Rosalie. "I know her better than anyone has ever known her, will ever know her. A soul, stripped bare of its life, is the purest form of a person. You cannot lie to death, you cannot pretend, cannot hesitate, or with-hold, cannot confuse or deceive._ _Everything_ _falls away, until you are left. Just you."_

 _Her eyes are closed again and she doesn't know when it happened._

 _Warm lips capture Rosalie's cold ones, in a strong, silent promise._ "If you must live, darling one," _a forehead rests against her own, a soft, quiet sob escaping the girl's lips,_ "just live."

 _Rosalie drifts into the darkness, knowing she has someone else's unconditional love._

"Just live."

 _The cold fades, the pain fades, the night fades._

"Just live."

" _Edward, go find a policeman."_

 _The girl sits back on her heels, looking up with wide eyes. "Wait!" she gasps, throwing out her arms to stop Edward from walking away and Carlisle getting to his feet. The vampires look at her curiously, eyes full of sympathy that only anger her. "You can't – you can't just leave. You're a doctor, you need to do something!"_

" _I am so sorry," Carlisle murmurs softly. "She's too far gone, she would not make it to any hospital." He gazes down at the blonde, listens to the dying beats of her heart that are growing farther and farther apart. "Even if she did, there is nothing we could do."_

 _Dark eyes stare at him, hard and calculating, speculating, and with a vague knowing look. Enough to make him shift, and look up at Edward. "Don't take her to a hospital."_

" _I beg your-"_

 _Edward's eyes widen and he steps back. "She knows!"_

" _You are not..." she shakes her head and takes a breath. "I know you're different. I know that the two of you are more similar than you should be, while remaining different. The rest of the city think you to be weird, but I_ _know_ _you are... more." She looks down at Rosalie. "Make_ _her_ _more. Like you."_

 _Shuffling through his many erratic thoughts, Carlisle decides to let go of how this girl knows in the first place. While he and Edward take the utmost care to hide their secret, he knows slip-ups are bound to happen now and then. As long as they are few and vague, nobody will believe any one person's crazy claim. "Why?"_

" _Why not?!"_

 _He smiles softly, sadly. "Our life is not a simple one. Not an easy one. Sometimes a gentle death is better than a painful life."_

" _Yes, but she did not get a gentle death, did she? All of it was taken from her and she_ _deserves more_ _, she deserves another chance. Another life, because life is what you make of it, and I think she will do wonderous things."_

" _And if not?" Edward challenges. "If she hates it? Hates you for forcing this upon her?"_

 _Carlisle flinches (knows some of that is directed at him) but the girl doesn't even blink. "Then she hates me. But she deserves the choice." Dark eyes meet Carlisle's golden ones again. "He took it from her but you can give it back."_

 _Vampire studies human, human sits unwavering in front of vampire. Carlisle hums under his breath as he peers at this peculiar girl. "Why?" he asks again. "Why fight so hard for a complete stranger?"_

" _Why stop here? Why wait? Why come running in the first place?" the girl counters. Her head tilts to the side, wide eyes beseeching. "Don't people deserve to be saved?"_

 **Please me**

 **Show me how it's done**

 **Tease me**

 **You are the one**

Clearly, the three of them talk about it when Rosalie and Edward first see Bella in the cafeteria. What were the chances of a human being born nearly a century later, looking exactly identical?

Greater than you'd think, actually.

Carlisle comes to the discussion with science behind him. Examples of doppelgangers through history, speculation of a finite amount of patterns human genetics could form. That during three point eight billion years of evolution, there was bound to be a repeat face here and there.

Edward, as always, falls back onto his faith. Claims she is an angel, sent to tempt him, to test him, and then to reward him as he becomes closer to her. That God had seen his suffering and deemed him worthy of...

Honestly, she stops listening after that.

While those two desperately try to figure out the why of it, Alice, Esme, and Emmett speculate on the who of it. They bring Bella into the family, welcome her with open arms, get to know the girl beneath it all. Having never met the mysterious girl who begged for Rosalie Hale's life, all they know is Bella looks like someone from the past.

They can't understand how she haunts Rosalie; a ghost from _her_ past, from her last moments as a human, as she lay broken and dying in a cold, empty street. Can't understand the impact a stranger can have on a person, even after only brief moments together.

Of course, Rosalie doesn't explain this to them. Doesn't tell anyone of the chaos underneath her cold, stoic surface. She snaps at the human each time it gets too close, each time Rosalie is brought back to that dark street, each time she is tempted to give that unconditional love back.

That unconditional love that has gotten Rosalie through over eighty years of immortality in a world undeserving of her, of this love she carries close to her chest.

Because she would give it back, she knows this. If it's the same girl -and how could it be? (how could it _not_ be?!)- then she knows she would give it back and more, would give _all_ of her love, everything she had scraped back together over the years. From this new family she has, from this new life she has made for herself.

And offer it up to her saviour.

To the girl who saw her soul, saw it for what it was worth, everything laid bare – cold and rejected and damaged in the night...

And decided she _loved_ it.

Rosalie has never believed in soulmates. (she _has_ , ever since that fateful night, ever since " _Because I love her."_ ) She knows about Vampire Mates, understands the science behind it that Carlisle has explained each and every single time she demanded it of him.

(she has demanded he explain it to her many, many, many times. Each time she remembers eyes darker than the night, and a smile brighter than the moon)

But then Bella comes crashing into her life and suddenly she's not so sure (suddenly she's _certain_ , suddenly she has _no doubt_ ).

She still doesn't tell the others. They would only complicate things, all with their good intentions of trying to help her, but in the end just make it worse. Ruin it or force her to ruin it, she doesn't know, but things don't end well for Rosalie Hale, so she tries to avoid it altogether. Better to spare everyone else, anyway.

Emmett breaks up with her and-

She's not surprised. She isn't. He wasn't her mate, they both knew this, and she wasn't his. They knew this day would come, so Rosalie doesn't expect _tears_ but she certainly doesn't expect a fucking _mischievous, giddy smile_ and yeah. She's suspicious. He just tells her he's excited to see what the universe has in store for her.

Life goes on and sure, she's keeping an eye out on the human, but that's because this human happens to be _extremely_ clumsy and she's falling every other step, so you have to watch out. Have to be ready. She tells Alice to fuck off when the pixie catches her gazing at Bella from across the cafeteria one day.

Edward drags the human over for lunch after he goes and _just gives away their secret_ like it's nothing, like their very lives don't hang in the balance and – yup, okay, the whole family is okay with it. Totally fine. Nobody blinks, and her suspicions rise.

She also tells the human to fuck off when Bella asks her what she's reading one afternoon they're alone in the living room.

She'd meant to say " _Professional Motor Mechanic."_

Another month goes by and Edward is shockingly less annoying than usual. It might have something to do with Bella verbally smacking him each and every time something pompous, selfish, or petulant comes out of his mouth. (It had gotten to the point where they'd text her each time he offended them and ten minutes later he would find them to apologize, and _no_ , no. Rosalie doesn't swoon. She doesn't have to wrestle the smile off her face.)

He sits down next to Rosalie, hesitating before reaching out to touching her shoulder. She blinks and turns to look at him, at his hand, and back to him. He drops it immediately. "What do you want?" she asks, simultaneously bored and annoyed already.

He shrugs, tries to go for a nonchalant smile that's more of a grimace. "She isn't for me."

"Figure that one out all by yourself, did you? Good job."

Edward pouts, actually pouts, and she's about to leave or maybe toss him through the wall.

He slides further down the couch away from her. "I just meant. God, you don't make this easy, Rosalie. I'm done pursuing her, she is very clearly not for me. She is, in fact, for someone else."

"It's about time you left the pitiful human alone."

"Someone else I know."

"I don't care."

"Someone else under this roof."

"Edward."

"Someone else on this couch – ow! Okay, I'm going!"

He doesn't bring it up around her again and she's thankful. She's thankful but she takes his words, tosses them around and around in her head.

Edward is a stubborn boy, one who doesn't change his mind often. Once every couple of decades, if that. If someone could convince _him_ that his beloved human wasn't actually meant for him, was meant for someone else... they were dangerously close to being able to convince her.

She spends the next few weeks leaving the room every time Bella enters it.

Everyone notices that Bella get's snappier, her jokes less sarcastic and a little more sharp than usual. She was no ball of sunshine before, Alice had affectionately nicknamed her _Gus_ ("because you're such a Grumpy-Gus, Bella! Get it? You're like a crotchety old man – no, Bella, I _love_ that about you. It's a compliment.")

Esme sits Rosalie down and tells her in no uncertain terms that she's to put in more effort with the human. That none of them have pushed her, and they won't, it's her decision... but she has to be nicer. Or, at the least, less mean.

The blonde reluctantly stays in the room the next time Bella enters, and the smiles come easier again.

Another month goes by and she's finally gotten to tolerating the human's presence. She stays in the room, she can be alone with Bella, they're even having conversations. Conversations that either end in scowls and glares, or surprised delight from both parties.

Turns out, Bella is horrendously endearing.

Rosalie's fear comes back, that night comes back, lingering around the edges, demanding to be faced. To be confronted.

How, she doesn't know because obviously, Bella will have no idea what she's talking about. She's human ( _so_ human, _annoyingly_ human, Rosalie's heart seizes in her chest every time Bella gets behind the wheel or crosses the border. How does something so _fragile_ live so dangerously?) and strictly eighteen years old.

She laughs when Alice says _strictly eighteen years old_ because... what does that even mean? Strictly. Could someone be loosely eighteen years old? Alice is not amused and oddly serious and okay, strictly eighteen years old, fine.

Rosalie still wants to tell Bella, still wants to tell the only person in the family who doesn't know, because Bella is. In the family, that is. She doesn't know when it happens, probably around the fifth month, but Esme has a new, human daughter. A daughter in a way that neither she nor Alice could ever provide. The family is complete and everyone is shocked that they hadn't realized it was missing something before, but it _was_ because they can see it now, see how empty it was before, and are delighted by how complete it is now.

If anyone could understand what Rosalie is going through, Bella would. The quirky, weird human who didn't blink at vampires, who seemed to be the only one who could keep up with Alice's jumbled Time Talk mess and actually? Offer? Arguments? Ones that Alice never considered and it's suddenly three o'clock in the morning and those two are sitting in Alice's tree outside the house, talking about how limiting linear timelines are.

Yeah. Bella would understand.

But how do you tell someone that you loved them when you were human, when you were a dying human bleeding out in the middle of a street, and they were a stranger who gave you their coat?

She can't.

She tries a few times, but the words don't come, and Bella cracks a lame joke before Rosalie shatters right in front of her. They go see a movie instead, and nobody comes with them. Bella doesn't ask Alice if she wants to tag along, which is a little unusual because there is no Bella without Alice and there is no Alice without Bella.

It's even more unusual when Bella shows up in a strangled looking bowtie, shoving her glasses up her nose as she stumbles in through the front door and shakes off her umbrella. Her dark eyes linger on Rosalie's skirt (Rosalie won't ever talk about it, about Alice literally _wrestling_ her into a skirt) and maybe Alice isn't such an insufferable little demon child, maybe she knows a thing or two, maybe Rosalie doesn't hate that she has to clear her throat to make Bella jerk her head up to meet her eyes.

And maybe she doesn't hate the blush that paints her human's cheeks.

Their hands meet sometime during the car ride to Port Angeles, brushing awkwardly against each other, and Rosalie quickly yanks hers away – instinctively, before she stops. Forces her hand to remain because flinching at Bella's touch is not, that's not what she was doing, that's not what she wants Bella to think she was doing. She just – she isn't used to people touching her, and _damn it_ , of course she's messing up already, of course she-

Bella slides her warm hand into Rosalie's, runs an ink-stained thumb over the back of a marble hand.

They only let go to get in and out of the car, and finally when they return to the Cullen manor.

Alice tackles Bella off the porch to ask about the movie.

A worried Carlisle chases after them to make sure she didn't break the human's back.

Another month goes by and no, Rosalie still hasn't told Bella. She doesn't tell Bella much, actually, not about the important stuff, but then who is to say what's important? _She_ thinks discussing Bella's favourite comic is very important, she thinks Bella asking about the very first car she ever built matters more.

Loving a stranger is surprisingly easy – as easy as dying.

Loving Bella is harder(not that it's hard, it's actually _dangerously easy_ ), it takes longer, it's scarier, but... but it's better. It's better because she knows just what to say to provoke her human out of the sad funk she gets in, to distract her with an argument (or fight. They fight a lot, and Rosalie would be worried if not for the dumb little emojis Bella always texts her afterwards) until her depression fades back into its dark little cage Bella struggles to lock it in whenever she can. She knows a particular roll of her eyes can make Bella snort, and that if she raises her eyebrow _just so_ , Bella bites her lip and can't look at Rosalie for a few minutes after that.

It's a Tuesday when Rosalie realizes she _does_.

She _does_ love Bella, and... and when did that happen? When did she fall in love with Bella? When was it suddenly – _ah, yes, now I love her._

Esme tells her "You never realize you've walked off the edge, not until you hit the ground. And, honey? You never hit the ground." She pats Rosalie's shoulder, kisses the top of her head. "Soulmates never stop falling."

In a daze, Rosalie wanders up the stairs. She ignores Jasper's encouraging smile and boost of confidence he sends her. Walks past Alice's open door, places her hand on the pixie's indignant face, and shoves her back into her room (she saw the towel and don't even get her started on the issues she has with Alice and Bella showering together, just – _no more)_ before slamming the door closed.

Bella is startled to see her, she knows that, hears that, but somehow unsurprised. And, Rosalie supposes, she should have expected that. Her human is wildly intuitive, and maybe, possibly, Rosalie isn't the most subtle person in the world.

Whatever, sue her.

She steps into the spray, forces her eyes to stay on Bella's (Bella's that keep squinting to focus enough to see her and _ugh, my defective, perfect little human_ ) and not drift lower because she has something important to say. Something very important.

Of course, Bella starts touching her, and all thought _flies_ from Rosalie's mind and what are words? How do they work? Maybe she should have waited for Bella to finish her shower, maybe... and Bella's legs are around her waist.

Never mind. This is perfect.

They stay in the shower long after the water runs cold, and it's _well_ worth Esme scolding her for an hour while Bella's teeth chatter next to her. Bundled in layers of blankets, Rosalie's hand clutched between hers -okay, yes, sorry, Esme, her hand is a little colder than usual, it won't happen again.

Bella entices her into a repeat performance the very following weekend.

Esme is twice as furious when Bella comes down with a cold (even if she's secretly delighted to be waiting on Bella hand and foot as the human is even _worse_ at taking care of herself when she's sick).

Time goes by, as it does, and Bella worms her way into everyone else's heart. (she had a long time ago – in fact, Rosalie's heart was the last to be breached) but it's more official now. After the James fiasco, the family had hunkered down around the human.

Being shown just how easily this precious girl could be taken from them had... shaken the Cullens, to say the least.

It's graduation – for Bella, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper at least. Edward and Alice pass for a few years younger, and part of Rosalie tells herself that Bella will too (when she's a _vampire_ , when she's _one of us_ , when it's _permanent_ ), but let's that thought go.

There's no room for that today.

Not when Bella can't stop smiling. When their little black cloud is _shining_ like the sun in her yellow graduation gown (Rosalie loves the navy blue bowtie with sky blue stars on it, sticking out the neckline of the gown. Almost tells her before she realizes she's never actually said the word _love_ about Bella out loud, certainly never to her face, and – oh, there's Esme, she wants another picture), because of the gift they'd all gotten her for graduation.

Not really for graduation, but it seemed like an appropriate time to give it, and it's worth it anyway when-

When Bella's dark eyes tear up and she gingerly pulls out the leather wristband from the box. Her fingers ghost over the Cullen Crest and her mouth keeps opening, but the words don't come out. Esme's eyes are full of tears that cannot fall, and Emmett is wiping at his face out of habit.

Rosalie swears her heart beats once, she does, she _feels_ it. Nobody mentions it so maybe it didn't, but for a second there...

For a second, she felt _alive_ again.

They're laying on the hood of _Estelle_ – Rosalie's cherry red convertible that she brought out specifically for this day, for Bella, because your first graduation is always special. Bella has her hands behind her head, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and Rosalie is half convinced she'll never wear sleeves again, she'll _never_ cover the crest. (Which the blonde is more than okay with – Bella has surprisingly defined arms, and she grudgingly has to give Leah credit for their weekend workout/hangout time.)

Bella hums, staring up at the blue sky. The clouds had parted and while that meant her time to celebrate with the other humans was cut short so the vampires could hide, Bella has no problem with it. She'd much rather be out in the middle of the field, next to her glittering goddess anyway. "Maybe it's not me," she says thoughtfully.

"Hm?" Brows furrowed, Rosalie gives up on making that _stupid_ flower crown Alice tried to show her how to make and tosses it to the ground beside the car. She turns her head to gaze at her human, feels her aggravation melt into affection. "Maybe what isn't you?"

Bella motions towards the sky uselessly (her human talks with her hands a lot, she's actually really animated when she speaks, and Rosalie has to catch flying eyeglasses more than a reasonable amount). "That girl," she says softly, and adds even more quietly, "from that night. I mean, I feel like you would have found me again once you were changed."

"I looked," Rosalie replies with a heavy voice because this... this is not something she likes to talk about. She tries her best for Bella's sake, but nobody else can pry a word out of her about it. "I searched for many years, and I could not find... her."

The human nods and turns on her side, props her elbow up against the windshield and holds her head in her hand. "Yes! See? If it were _me_ , you would have found me. I have no doubt about that. We were always meant to find each other, we were meant to _be_ , Rose. So that other girl... she couldn't have been me."

"It seems extraordinary that she would happen to hear me and come running, otherwise," Rosalie says. She blinks dark eyes at Bella and considers this. "About as extraordinary as her coming back one hundred years later to find me again. I don't know, Bella. Both seem highly unlikely."

"Well, you're highly unlikely."

"..."

"Highly _unlikable_ , as well."

"There it is."

"You're a woman of maybe _uns_ , Rosalie," Bella declares with a cheeky grin.

The vampire scoffs. Looks up to the clouds coming towards them from the distance. Can smell the rain on the wind. "If I'm so unlikable, then what are you doing here with me?"

"You also happen to be _super_ hot, so."

"You're lucky I put up with your vexing presence because I doubt anyone else would."

Bella is there, leaning over Rosalie and blocking out the sky. The blonde holds onto her mask of indifference, struggles when Bella's grin is so big, so happy that it crinkles her eyes. "First of all," Bella says as she braces her arm on Rosalie's other side, laying across her abdomen. "I'm hella rad and charming." She tucks a lock of golden hair behind a sparkling ear. "Secondly, Alice would scoop me up in a second."

"And what of Jasper?"

She shrugs casually. "He's cool with sharing, we've discussed it."

"You-!"

Bella laughs and Rosalie swallows down her snarl, her chest vibrating with a growl. "Kidding, I'm kidding. You know I think you're lovely and my obsession runs alarmingly deep."

"Your bedroom walls are _covered_ in sketched renditions of me, yes," Rosalie agrees, a little smugly. (she'd been speechless and lighter than air when she first saw Bella's room, part of her worried that these chaotic feelings were one-sided)

Bella places her hand over Rosalie's mouth, eyes shifting to look out around the field. "Shhh, we don't talk about that. Alice _still_ calls me a stalker."

"I don't mind the stalking," Rosalie says behind the hand. "In fact, I quite enjoy it."

This time Bella rolls her eyes and drops her hand. "Whatever, Narcissus. You could draw my face every once in a while."

"I have much bigger plans for you, darling."

Bella eyes her thoughtfully, a seriousness in her eyes that Rosalie isn't used to seeing. There's something there, something unspoken (because trying to get Bella to open up is like _pulling teeth_ , and okay, she finally understands what the others were always talking about when it came to her), and Rosalie's curiosity demands to be satisfied. But she'll never demand anything of Bella, and thus is forced to wait patiently.

The human sighs softly, rests her cheek on Rosalie's chest as she gazes into pools of molten gold. "It couldn't have been me," she says quietly, and Rosalie's mood is quickly sobered. "I wouldn't have... I wouldn't have let them _touch_ you, Rose, I would have killed them first. I swear it. If – if it was me, then I should have done better, I should have been there, I _failed_ you and-"

Rosalie sits up, brings Bella up with her, silences the distraught human with a kiss. She holds Bella's face gently, like she is a precious thing to treasure – because she is, and rests her forehead against her human's. "That is _not your fault_ , Bella. Everything that's happened to me... that is beyond your control and I don't want you to ever think you could have changed it, that you could have prevented it, because that is a tortured thought I _refuse_ to let you haunt yourself with."

"I hate them," Bella weeps. She clutches at Rosalie tightly, fear gripping her heart every time she thinks that she almost lost this. A burning hatred every time she remembers what they did to her perfect rose. "I hate them."

A sad smile tugs at Rosalie's lips and she nods. "I know," she whispers and pulls back enough to meet Bella's watery eyes. She swipes her thumbs underneath, catching tears, and offers a brighter smile. "If it _was_ you, then it might help to know you smashed a bottle against his face."

"He deserves worse," Bella declares darkly and-

 _Rosalie blinks, back on that street for a second. Bella crouched over her, clutching her hand, and weeping for a dying stranger._

She sucks in a sharp breath, blinking heavily, and shakes her head. "He got worse," she promises absently. Her world tilted, shifted on its axis because before this, she was skeptical.

Edward and Carlisle were certain, as certain as they could be with their flimsy logic that was circumstantial at best, but Rosalie wasn't. She'd seen some weird things in life, sure, but this was a little far-fetched.

Now, she's not so sure.

Except that she _is,_ that she _is_ sure, and she's going to go home tonight and tell Carlisle because it was Bella. It was Bella in that street. It was Bella one hundred years ago.

It's always been Bella, and how could she ever believe for a second it wasn't?

Bella's nodding, too, saying something along the lines of _good, I'm glad_ , because she knows what Rosalie did. The blonde already sat her down and explained how she haunted her ex-fiancee for weeks before tearing him and his buddies apart and earning the title _The Bloody Bride_.

Rosalie kisses Bella again, this time with more intent, with more purpose, because she... she... "I love you," she murmurs against lips softer than life, and hears Bella's breath catch in her throat. "I love you. I _love_ you, Bella."

There are more tears, Rosalie feels them hit her hands that are still cupping Bella's face, but she has a feeling these are happy ones. "Bitch, I know it," Bella replies in a shaky, watery voice and-

-and Rosalie laughs, sharp and abrupt and taken off guard, and always, always delighted by her human.

"I love you, too, Rose." Bella chuckles weakly, sighs deeply. Long and tired but happy and satisfied. Rosalie blinks and looks at a face brighter than the sun. "I knew this day was coming but I did absolutely _nothing_ to prepare for it. Did I really just say _Bitch, I know it_?"

Rose nods and can't wipe the smile off her face. "And just how did you know this day was coming? I happen to play my cards quite close to my chest."

"And what a chest, at that," Bella grins, yelps at Rosalie's soft jab to her side. She takes in a big breath, let's it out in a happy hum. Shrugs and shakes her head, pressing a sweet kiss to Rosalie's lips quickly. "Because," she drawls out and motions backwards towards the sky and field. " _The universe owes me one."_

 **.**

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 **Will probably add more oneshots within this universe.**

 **1- You, by Keaton Henson.**


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